An Honest Mistake
by fictitiousburn
Summary: One guy, two girls, one choice. A description of how a life can change when you try to choose who to love...and you choose wrong (a Harry/Hermione songfic)
1. The Obvious Choice

**an honest mistake,** an **alternate universe** unrequited love story  
**warning:** use of coarse language

* * *

**the obvious choice? obviously not!**

* * *

_People, they don't mean a thing to you. They move right through you, just like your breath.  
But sometimes, I still think of you. And I just wanted to, just wanted you to know. My old friend..._

Hermione grinned from her spot in a comfortable armchair at the sight of her best friend collapsing onto the couch opposite her. She lowered her book into her lap and looked at him with an inquisitive but bright grin still plastered onto her face. When he tilted his head, his glasses were askew and he glowered at her blatant display of happiness.

"Merlin, Hermione. Do you know how _stressful_ Quidditch is?" He complained, his eyebrows furrowed as he slid his hands underneath his chin.

"No, and I don't think I'd like to find out. I've got enough stress studying as it is." She couldn't help but let out a mirthful laugh, hiding her face behind her book and a curtain of unruly hair as she sensed a retaliatory comment from her friend.

"Yeah, well, not enough stress since you're laughing at me. I'm Captain and Seeker this year. Everyone keeps coming up to me and trying to give me ideas for new plays. Quite frankly," Harry said as he shifted into a sitting position, "I told them to 'sod off and wait until I catch the bloody Golden Snitch.' It worked for a couple hours at the best."

Hermione couldn't help it this time; she burst out into laughter. Harry grinned, his frustrations slightly appeased by the sight of his closest friend laughing. It had been a long time since he had been given the opportunity to just sit and talk to her. They had been so busy with classes and their own lives that it was slightly disconcerting, but now that they wee talking, he felt better. At least she wasn't with Ginny; it was difficult for him to start a conversation that both the girls could participate in. They were vastly different with different opinions and different interests; they were unique, but Harry loved them both. Suppressing a tiny sigh at the thoughts on his mind, he turned his emerald gaze to her book.

"What are you reading _now_?" Harry said, tilting his glasses away from his face and squinting towards her. She lifted her book although she doubted that it'd make a difference whether he could see the title on the front cover or not. "It's a novel," she replied. "A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. My mother got it for me before I left."

He nodded at her. "I think I'm going to go down for a walk. You should leave that pesky novel," he said with a mischievous glance towards the hard covered book, "and come with me. Please," he added. Hermione gave him an exasperated smile before she gazed back at her book, rubbing her eyes idly. Suddenly now that the invitation to go on a walk, just her and Harry, seemed to pale in comparison to the winding plot of a Charles Dickens' novel. They would be alone, the two of them, talking. He had _asked_ her to go out for a walk. It was as good a chance as she'd ever get.

"I'll head up and get my cloak." Harry grinned triumphantly.

* * *

Somewhere on the first few steps and the pathway to the Black Lake, Harry had reached for her hand and despite her fervent blush, Hermione had allowed him to grasp it. His hands were calloused and rough from Quidditch, but hers were soft and slightly clammy, her fingertips dried from turning book pages throughout the majority of the evening. She kept her head straight as she took in the appearance of the Grounds at night. The stars were bright and with no lights as far as the horizon, they were bright and visible. She gave herself a few moments to look up at them before focusing back on the trek between them. The edge of the lake seemed to sneak up on the two of them and Hermione wanted to keep holding his hand, but he detached them to sit down at the dock. She sat beside him, but rather than dangle her legs over the edge like he had, she pulled her knees towards her chest and rested her chin atop them. The water rippled gently like a dark, smooth blanket threatening to stretch to the sky and swallow up the stars.

"I, uh," came Harry's awkward start and the brunette turned her head to watch him with a small smile. "I've got something important to tell you."

Hermione felt like a herd of gangly, skeletal Thestrals had stampeded through her stomach. It wasn't butterflies like the common Muggle expression; her stomach knotted painfully and started to hurt. She hadn't realized how much she had waited for a confession from him, how much things would change once he revealed whether or not she was making up these feelings entirely.

"I think I'm in love..." Her mouth opened to interject but he beat her to the punch. "...with Ginny." She turned her head away from him and stared out at the lake, willing herself not to cry. Now was not the time for that. Now was the time to switch from jilted crush to best friend. "And I don't know what to do."

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath and tried not to be bitter. "How can I help?" Her voice was soothing but she avoided meeting his eyes, hoping that he wouldn't try or that he'd be too consumed with his feelings to notice hers. She avidly tried to mask the rest of her hurt and pain, despite the fact that her heart was screaming, calling out to him. It was too late now, though. He had put her heart on hold—permanently.

"Thank you, Hermione, for being so understanding about this. I mean, you're my best friend and Ginny is your best friend and I just—"

"Nonsense," she interrupted, barely avoiding a sarcastic tone, "It's fine. I'm your best friend," she repeated, hoping it'd shake her back into reality, "I'll help if I can." She was lying. She didn't want to help him be with someone else, but she was his best friend. Perhaps that was why she was in this situation. A phrase she had remembered from her youth reached out and slapped her across the face — this is the friends zone. Her continued silence, Harry assumed, had meant she had nothing else to say and he had patted her gently on the back before leaving her at the lake. She froze there for a long time, her hands wrapped tightly around her knees. She needed to figure out how to move on and behave like she had before, without the ever obvious part where she had been head over heels in love with her best friend.

Especially that part.


	2. The Dream Life

**an honest mistake,** an **alternate universe** unrequited love story  
**warning:** use of coarse language

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**the dream life, straight from nightmare land**

* * *

_Sometimes I forget I'm still awake. I fuck up and say these things out loud.  
My old friend...I swear I never meant for this. I never meant..._

With an ecstatic squeal, Ginny grabbed Harry's hand so they didn't get separated in the crowded walkways of Diagon Alley in Christmas time. Snow fell as the redhead trekked onward, peering in store windows and keeping a tight hold on her boyfriend's hand. "Oh, look at this! It's a child sized Firebolt, Harry," she halted as she turned over her should to look at him and saw the smile already stretched across his face. They walked into the toy shop to get a closer look at the broom. Mothers and fathers and their children surged in and out of the store in excitement for the Christmas season.

Harry had been reading the packaging that came along with with the product when his girlfriend squeezed his hand crushingly. "Hermione!" Her voice pierced his thoughts and he lifted his head, his eyes scanning the crowds to see where his friend had been spotted. Ginny waved her free hand frantically and she saw Parvati leading the brunette witch carefully through the crowds. "Parvati," Ginny leaned in to kiss her cheek, "how are you!" The dark skinned female spared her friend a weary smile, clearly exhausted from her day. Perhaps it had more to do with the slight bump of her stomach, but her sister-in-law answered anyway. "I'm great! Bloody tired," she added with a grin. Finally, Hermione managed to find her shopping companion, but not without another of her own.

Harry stared at the little girl that clung to Hermione's neck, blocking her mostly from view. Her hair was the same color and texture as Hermione's, but when she turned her shy gaze towards the couple in front of her, he could see that her eyes were a bright, stunning blue. Ginny instantly gushed over her and she returned to hiding in the safety of her hair, long and falling over her shoulders. "Hey, you two," Hermione managed to call out from over the grip of her overprotective toddler-sized attachment. "I asked Parvati to come and help me pick up a few things to donate to the orphanage from Christmas." Reaching, the girl in her arms reached for Parvati and Hermione allowed her to shift. She leaned towards Parvati and whispered something in her ear before she handed her the small, jingling bag of coins before she exited the store.

All that Harry could manage to do was watching her retreating form push through the bustle of adults and children and through the frosted glass. He barely listened as Parvati talked about Ron passing out when he heard about her news of pregnancy and then her introduction of Hermione's _daughter_, Kelly, to Ginny and an absentminded Harry. She was three and an orphan from the aforementioned orphange. Hermione had adopted the little girl when she first arrived at the orphanage at only six months old and Parvati, she allowed herself to boast, was her godmother.

* * *

Hermione took slow, measured steps down the windy streets of Diagon Alley. She wandered off the pathway, tipping her head down to watch her feet so that the wind didn't whip the snow and her hair around her face too viciously. Slowly, the foot traffic of people died down and she allowed her thoughts to catch up to her. It had been five years since she had seen Harry. He hadn't bothered to contact her or reach out to her but he was content masquerading around with his new girlfriend. He had been perfectly fine with Ginny and their one-year-old son; Hermione at least knew about that much. She had remembered that day, the day he told her that he loved Ginny; she remembered it every day of her long life and stomped it down every night before she drifted to sleep. It wasn't fair. She had tried her best to forget and to move on, and his absence from his life should have helped her.

She hadn't even noticed the tears blurring her vision until she tried to inhale and coughed out a sob.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" A foreign voice chimed in. It wasn't foreign in the way that she wouldn't recognize who it was; she knew who it was. But she hadn't heard the familiar, concerned voice in a long time. She sniffled before she turned to look at her former best friend.

"I didn't know you'd care." She raised the back of her hand to dab at her eyes, her cheeks and nose glowing red from the sting of the cold and the threat of tears just moments before.

"Of course I care, I've always cared. I've wanted to see you, Hermione, but I—"

"It didn't seem that way to me. It didn't seem like that way for all those years I spent alone, with only Ron and Parvati caring enough to check on me. I've even spoken to Ginny a few times over the years. If she hadn't told me, I would have even known that you had a child." Her voice was brimming with quiet, malicious rage and Harry could see it as he watched her fists clench at her sides.

"I'm engaged," he answered weakly, and Hermione only wanted to slap him. "How do you—"

"I don't _care_! I was your best friend, Harry! At one time, in at least one small moment, I remember seeing you every day. I remember you, Ron, and I were inseparable. I remember not being able to go anywhere without the two of you. Everything...everything is different now. Just because you don't love me like you love _her_," she allowed the bitter ring to contaminate her words, "it doesn't mean you had to just leave me behind."

"Hermione!" Harry called out as she started to walk away. "You can't just leave, you don't understand. That day...the day I told you about my feelings—"

"What's that got to do with anything!? Please, just tell me," she demanded, pulling at her long curls.

Momentarily, Harry's eyes shifted and noticed how long her hair was, like it had been when they were eleven, but the texture was less frizzy and more smooth. He shook his head gently before he stepped closer to her. "Hermione, I do love you." His voice was soft and his eyes searched hers carefully. "That day tore me apart...I forced myself to stop leading the two of you on. I tried to make a careful decision between the both of you. I couldn't tell...I didn't know that you felt that way. Not until it was too late."

Hermione remained quiet as she thought over his admission. "I was still your friend," she cried freely, not bothering to wipe her tears now, "I didn't want to interfere, but Harry, I loved you more than anything in the world. I thought I was going to die of heartbreak before I saw you and Ginny happy. Sometimes...sometimes I still wonder if I'll die before I get used to it."

Harry closed the distance between them slowly, his eyes boring into hers. She knew what he was going to do, what he was about to do, and she had no heart to stop him. One of his arms pulled her waist closer to him and the other ran through the length of her hair, settling it by her elbows before he pressed his lips against hers. Her cold hands pressed against his warm cheeks and she opened her mouth to him, crushing her body against his, wanting to do so much more than that. But she didn't; she pulled away from him with an icy fury behind her eyes.

"You're engaged," she spoke as if she had just discovered this, even though she had. "You're engaged and you have a son, Harry. I can't do this with _you_, not in this situation. Certainly not like this." Hermione finally turned herself around and walked off, her thoughts in a flurry. Harry turned back the way he came and his _heart_ was in a flurry.


	3. The Grand Finale

**an honest mistake,** an **alternate universe** unrequited love story  
**warning:** use of coarse language

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**the grand finale (as she lives without him)**

* * *

_Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake. Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake.  
Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake. Don't look at me that way. It was an honest mistake._

Hermione smiled every time they walked past or every time they came to visit Ron and Parvati when she was there. She acted friendly every time she heard Ginny talk about her wedding. She cooed affectionately when Ginny showed her pictures of their son, Michael, holding their rings. She smiled again at the sight of Ginny in her perfect dress or their wedding kiss or the tossing of the bouquet. She simply acted how she imagined she could have acted if things had been amicable. In truth, she was unfazed. Harry knew that it bothered her. He could tell that her acting friendly was just an act, that her cooing was subtle mockery, that the smiles were all fake. Harry wondered just how strong she was, that she could withstand the assault of her rejection day in and out and still maintain her sanity. It pained him to see her acting when it shouldn't have. It was all his fault anyway.

He remembered the last time he had wandered into Diagon Alley and ran into her in Flourish and Blotts with a handful of books in her arms. "Hermione!" He had called and was shocked when she turned and smiled warmly at him. It had been a long time since he had been on the receiving end of what appeared to be a genuine smile. He walked up behind her while she was on the line with her books and returned her smile appreciatively. "How are you doing, Harry?"

Harry reached to give her a hug and recoiled after many of her books dug into his chest. It didn't seem purposeful, but it was hard to tell with the flicker of sadness across his friend's face before he answered her. "I'm pretty well. Michael's doing great. Lily just turned two."

With a raise of her eyebrows, Hermione balanced her books on one of her hips before she dipped her hand into her bag, rustling around. Finally, she pulled her hand out and smiled as she handed Harry a picture. "Kelly just started kindergarten. That's her picture from school," she nodded towards the square photo. In it, Kelly's striking blue eyes pierced the lens of the still photo camera. Her hair, long and brown like Hermione's, fell past her shoulders, neatly secured with a headband. They looked surprisingly alike for a mother and daughter pair that shared no blood. He stared at the photo while Hermione set her books on the counter and paid for them.

"I, uh. I just came out to get a book." Harry peeked over at it and he couldn't see the title, but he could see the body of a woman with a tiny outline of a child in her stomach. He looked his friend up and down but she appeared to be the picture of thin and not pregnant as he could have imagined. He nodded solemnly before he reached out to catch her wrist; his small miscalculation caused him to grab her hand. This time, hers were rough and calloused and his were soft and slightly clammy. The brunette nearly jumped out of her shoes at his touch, but he cleared his throat.

"It was an honest mistake," he said plainly, looking into her eyes before he let her go.

* * *

"Harry!" Ginny cried out excitedly. "Come look at this picture Hermione sent us!" The tall, dark-haired wizard walked into the room before walking over to his wife. His eyes briefly scanned the picture before she lifted another copy. "There's another copy for you!"

Harry glanced at the surprisingly moving photo of Hermione and her family. She stood next to a tall man with a head of messy black curls, soft and short, but they stood up in some places and the photo-Hermione reached up every few moments to brush them down against his head with a vibrant laugh. Every few moments in between, photo-husband would press his lips against photo-Hermione's cheek and she'd blush. In front of her was Kelly, standing tall and beaming into the camera. Her eyes matched the blue of photo-husband's eyes. Next to Kelly were two children, a boy and a girl. The photo-boy and photo-girl would hug each other tightly, their arms wrapped around the other's shoulders. They both had sloppy, cheesy grins pasted across their faces. The photo-boy had the same dark, curly, unruly hair as the photo-husband but his eyes were warm and brown. The photo-girl had photo-Hermione's long curls draped across one shoulder, tangled in the photo-boy's arms.

And then Hermione. She was not a photo person. She gazed out into the camera serenely, occasionally reaching to touch her photo-husband's hair or settle the two hyperactive photo-children in front of her, but she looked peaceful. Harry turned the picture over in his hands and was surprised to find a short message.

'I hope you're happy with your honest mistake. I can't help you this time.' Underneath it was a tiny scrawling of the names and ages of her family members. Will, her husband, she had noted next to his name. Kelly was eight, Casey, the photo-boy, was three and the photo-girl Morgan was his twin sister. She _had_ been pregnant when he had run into her in Flourish and Blotts after all. She hadn't written her name down on the back of the photo, but she hadn't needed to. Harry took the photo with him as he went back towards his bedroom, all the while wondering what it would have been like if Hermione had reached up to tame his hair in front of their children.

It was his honest mistake, he reminded himself, and he had to live with it now.


End file.
